


cold hands, warm hearts

by akirastronomy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Childhood Friends, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Angst, Pining Keith/Lance (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Snow, Snow Day, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:29:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21929743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akirastronomy/pseuds/akirastronomy
Summary: Lance Serrano-McClain is a strong-willed person, least to say.He gets his way more often than not, with cunning eyes and devious smiles. When he knows what he wants, he knows how to get it. He rarely backs down when facing a challenge, and mostly gets through it unscathed. Victorious, even. Others just call him stubborn.But when his best friend of almost 15 years is suddenly leaning into him with powdered snow on his eyelashes and an almost ethereal glow to him…...What else can he do but melt?
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 160





	cold hands, warm hearts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [juneolympics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/juneolympics/gifts).



> fun fact: i have never touched snow in my life

They had first met on a playground in the cold -ber months, the pale sun shining above but doing nothing to hinder the biting breeze. People were swaddled up in multiple layers, their breaths coming out in small, white puffs.

  
  


Lance has just gotten bored of the slide and is now waddling his way to the seesaws to play with another group of kids. His _mamá_ had wrapped him in at least 3 layers, topped with a beanie, scarf, and gloves. Thus the waddling. He kicks a stone in front of him, chasing it farther down the path.

  
  


He’s almost to the seesaws when he sees him. A kid about his age, with dark hair and a red beanie, sitting in the sand box. Alone. Building a snowman (sandman?), if it can even be called that. Because it was _horrendous._ From where Lance was now standing and staring, he doesn’t think the sand-snowman even had arms, the balls of sand making up its body uneven and blob-like. Lance was _not_ having it.

  
  


He turns towards the direction of the sandbox and starts walking to it. No, he was not stomping. And no, he was not frowning either. His eyebrows definitely weren’t furrowed.

  
  


He steps into the sandbox, plopping down directly across the kid. Said kid was very concentrated on building his snow-sand man, not even noticing Lance until he taps his shoulder.

  
  


“Hey!” Lance exclaims. The kid looked utterly confused.

  
  


“Um...Hi?” The kid says, tilting his head.

  
  


“You’re doing it wrong!” Lance says, leaning back from where he had tapped the kids shoulder. He crosses his arms, waiting for an answer.

  
  


“I’m doing _what_ wrong?” The kid asks defensively, mirroring Lance and crossing his arms as well. Lance huffs. Doesn’t he see how...not nice the sand-snowman man was? “Your sand-snowman! Look at how bad it is!”

  
  


The kid’s definitely getting annoyed now, confusion shifting into something more uptight, as if it was an instinct. He starts to get up to leave, muttering a ‘Whatever…’ as he dusts the sand from the back of his jeans. Lance thinks it was supposed to make him scared, but that didn’t really work because the kid’s voice was high and squeaky, just like his. But a factor working for him was that he was a lot taller than Lance. Still, he didn’t mean to make him mad, he just wanted to help!

  
  


“Wait!” Lance calls out right before the kid steps out of the sandbox. “What’s your name?”

  
  


For some reason, the kid looks confused again, like someone his age asking for his name was the last thing he expected to happen. He uncrosses his arms, turning back a little to face Lance more. “...Keith.”

  
  


Lance smiles widely, frustration suddenly gone, replaced with an overwhelming kindness. Something only a 6-year-old like him can do. “Nice to meet you, Keith! I’m Lance.”

  
  


“...Lance.” Keith says slowly, as if he was testing how it felt to say it. He’s fully facing Lance again, anger dissipated but cautiousness staying underneath.

  
  


“Yeah! If you stay, I can help you build a better sand-snowman.” Lance says, beckoning Keith to sit down across from him again. “We can even think of a name!”

  
  


As Keith plops back down on the sand, he smiles a little. “Okay.”

  
  


They’re halfway through making their second one when Lance looks up at his _mamá,_ who’s sitting on the bench next to another woman he didn’t know. Lance fleetingly wondered who she was, until he sees his _mamá_ smile warmly at him. He lifts his arm in an enthusiastic wave, smile brightening even more. Lance sees her shake her head a little, laughing softly, before returning to her conversation with the mystery woman.

  
  


Lance turns back at the task at hand as well, finishing up the sand-snowman with a little pat to its head. He hears Keith mumble something, but it wasn’t loud enough for him to understand.

  
  


“Huh?” Lance asks a little loudly, sitting up straight and looking at the boy beside him.

  
  
  


“Is that your mom?” Keith repeats, looking at the two women on the bench.

  
  


Lance smiles again, “Yeah! She’s really pretty, right? Do you know the person she’s talking to?”

  
  


A small smile teases Keith’s lips before he answers, “Yeah. She’s my mom.”

“Wow! What a c-coi-” Lance stutters, trying to say the new word Teacher Melanor had taught them a few days ago. The word meant something that only happened by chance.

  
  


Keith blinks, looking at him struggle.

  
  


“Coincidence?” He asks easily, as Lance snaps his head up to nod at him. “Yeah, that! What a coincidence. Hey, you didn’t tell me you were smart…”

  
  


Keith huffed. “So you thought I was dumb?”

  
  


"Kinda." Lance shrugs, brutally honest.

  
  


Keith had just grabbed a handful of sand with his small fist when they both feel it. Small specks of coldness landing on their skin. They start to look around at the same time, seeing smatters of white on the ground and something that looked like white powder starting to mix into the sand beneath them.

  
  


Lance giggled, “It’s snowing!” He immediately sticks his tongue out, trying to catch some snowflakes on it. He pouts a few seconds later when he doesn’t feel any, turning to Keith instead.

  
  


Keith was staring up at the sky, looking at the small flurries of snowflakes rapidly increasing and making their way to earth. His eyes were wide, mouth open in something like awe. Lance was confused. Why does he look so surprised?

  
  


Out of the corner of his eye, he saw both their mothers stand and start walking to the sandbox. All pretense of figuring Keith out gone, he springs up and practically jumps into his _mamá’s_ waiting arms. He laughs with her as she slowly lowers him to the ground, inhaling the familiar scent of cinnamon and perfume that always surrounded her. He looks back at Keith, who is now hiding behind his mom’s legs as he stares up at Lance’s _mamá._

  
  


Keith’s mom smiles down kindly at him before squatting down to be at his level. “Hi, there. What’s your name?”

  
  


Lance smiled once more. He was making a lot of friends today! “Lance Serrano-McClain!” He says, sticking his hand out to shake it with Keith’s mom’s. His _mamá_ always reminded him to shake hands with people he just met, especially if they were older than him. “Nice to meet you!”

  
  


Her smile widens, a flash of teeth showing. She reaches out and takes his much smaller hand in hers, shaking it gently. “I’m Krolia. And that’s my son, Keith. But you probably already knew that.”

  
  


She gestures behind her, where Keith was standing behind Krolia. She nudges him a little, causing him to step out from the comfort of his mother’s body and wave at Lance and his _mamá._

  
  


Krolia stands up again, staying beside Keith and resting an arm around his shoulders. “Keith, that’s Lance and his mom, Rosa. Say hi!”

  
  


Keith avoids eye contact, finding the snow on the ground much more interesting. “Hi…”

  
  


“He’s shy. But he’s the sweetest kid.” Krolia says, shaking her head fondly at him. She looks back at Lance. “I was surprised he warmed up to you so quickly. He must like you a lot for that to happen.”  
  
  
He beams, redirecting his attention to Keith. “Of course he does! _Mamá_ always said that I’m a nice boy!”  
  


Lance feels the hand atop his head take his beanie off and another ruffles his hair, a warm chuckle coming from above him. “That you are, cariño.”

  
  


“Your mom also said that you go to Arus Preschool.” Krolia says after watching the exchange fondly, “Well, Keith will be going to school there too, starting Monday.”  
  
  
“Really?!” Lance gasped excitedly, jumping up and down a little. “That’s so cool! Me and Keith are gonna be best friends!”

  
  


Krolia laughs, looking at her son to see him facing away, but she can see the small smile on his face. “I’m sure Keith is as excited as you, Lance.”

  
  


There’s a lull in conversation, before his _mamá_ speaks up again. “Well, we should get going now. We don’t want the kids to get colds, and I’m sure you and Kenneth still have a lot to unpack.”

  
  


“Yeah, we do.” Krolia nods, before shaking Keith a little with the arm that was still on his shoulders. “And this kiddo here isn’t used to the snow, since it rarely snowed in Houston.”

  
  


Keith grumbled a little, but he still looked around the playground, taking in the small piles of fresh snow starting to form and the amount of snowflakes falling increasing every second. “It’s pretty…”

  
  


His _mamá_ and _Tiá_ Krolia laugh softly at that, before starting to turn away in opposite directions. Lance walks peppily next to his _mamá_ as he holds her hand, talking animatedly about the friends he made on the slides before going over to Keith and building sand-snowmans with him. He runs out of things to say, so he checks over his shoulder to see if Keith was still there. But he was already looking back at him from across the playground.

  
  


Lance, suddenly tired from playing the whole afternoon, settled with a small wave at him and smiling.

  
  


Keith waves back, smiling as well.

  
  


When they go back to school on Monday, he spends the whole day with Keith, showing him his favorite toys in the classroom and proudly pointing out the works pinned to the wall that were his.

  
  


And the day after that. And the day after that.

  
  
  
  


»»————- ❅ ————-««

  
  
  
  


Keith and Lance are in 1st grade when they establish their little tradition.

  
  


They’d been on the swings during recess, daring to face the freezing wind that bit their skin that wasn’t protected with layers of clothing. Lance proposed the challenge of swinging the highest, and Keith took it up, no further urging needed. They agreed that the winner would get the other’s packed candies for the day.

  
  


“3...2...1-” They counted down simultaneously, before stopping abruptly as well, because-

  
  


“Is it snowing?” Lance asks, holding his arm out. They look up. “It is!”

  
  


By now, all the other kids had stopped whatever they were doing as well, the playground suddenly paused from the high-pitched shouting and laughter. Even the second graders that were still inside rushed to the windows to try and get a glimpse of the first snowfall of the year.

  
  


Lance snaps out of his trance-like state, whipping his head around to look at Keith beside him. His expression reminded Lance of when they first met, eyes filled with wonder and mouth opened slightly in awe. When they met, it’d been the first snowfall of the year too…”Keith! I have an idea!”

  
  


“Hm?” Keith hums as he turns his head to look at Lance. “What is it?”

  
  


“It’s the first snowfall this year,” Lance replies, smiling a little at the confusion on his best friend’s face. “Like when we first met 2 years ago. What if, every year, we watch the first snowfall together?”

  
  


“Why?” Keith asks. Lance sees that he isn’t against the idea, just cautious, or maybe hesitant.

  
  


“I don’t know,” He answers, shrugging one of his shoulders. “It can be, like...our _thing._ ”

  
  


“Our _thing_?” Keith repeats, tilting his head.

  
  


“Yeah!” Lance answers excitedly, “Like...y’know, Lance and Keith’s _thing._ ”

  
  


“Uh...huh.”

  
  


“C’mon, Keith!” He says, prolonging the _e._ “It’s not like it’ll hurt or anything.”

  
  


Keith turns back to look at the flurries of snowflakes falling rapidly, watching as his breath came out in white puffs. “...Okay.”

  
  


Lance pumps his fist in the air. “Yes!”

  
  
  
  


»»————- ❅ ————-««

  
  
  
  


Lance grumbled, crumpling another piece of paper filled with messy formulas. Stupid homework. Literally _why_ did they even need to learn this? They were in 8th grade, shouldn’t they start learning about more important stuff? Like...taxes or how the government works or some shit-

  
  


“Lance!”

  
  


His downward spiral of hating math is interrupted, Veronica’s voice from downstairs ending up shrill in his ears.

  
  


“What!” He screams back, looking at the closed door.

  
  


“It’s snowing!”

  
  


“What?!” He repeats, incredulously. He scraped his chair back, rushing to stand up and look at the window, and- yeah, it _was_ snowing. He immediately scrambled to his bed, fumbling for his phone that was lost in the sea of sheets. After a few seconds, his hand closes around something solid. “Aha!”

  
  


He rapidly types his password in, checking his messages. There are 2 already waiting for him.

  
  


**_Mullet Man_ **

_5:21pm_ Hey Lance

 _5:21pm_ It’s starting to snow, I’m omw to the park.

_5:30pm_ oh shit ndknskf

 _5:30pm_ im def not just leaving now

_5:30pm_ It’s fine dw 

_5:30pm_ But hurry the fuck up it’s freezing

_5:31pm_ eye eye captain kogane

_5:31pm_ Ugh

  
  


Lance exhales through his nose, smiling a little. The perks of having a Keith to annoy. He opens his closet, picking a coat at random and grabbing his beanie and scarf from the top shelf. He digs around for his gloves, but after 3 minutes of searching, he grows impatient and huffs. He’ll be riding his bicycle to the park and it’ll no doubt be freezing, but whatever. He's got an impatient friend with a mullet waiting for him in the snow, probably shivering. Shit.

  
  


He puts his coat on while going down the stairs, and had almost been out the door before remembering his phone and doubling back. He wraps the scarf his _mamá_ made for him around his neck and shoves his beanie on his head. He knows his hair is now a mess, but it's just Keith anyway.

  
  


"I'll be back before dinner!" Lance calls out before practically running out the door and to the garage. He stands his bike up from where it was discarded on the floor. He mounts it and sets off, probably going faster than needed. And Keith was right, it _is_ freezing, and Lance forces his teeth to stop chattering and stifles the urge to blow into his hands. He should've borrowed gloves from Rachel.

  
  


The park comes into view, so he pedals a little faster, hoping that Keith wouldn't decapitate him for leaving him to freeze to death on a bench. He gets off his bike, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat. He speedwalks until he reaches the loose circle of benches that surrounds the old stone fountain. This is where they usually meet if they decide to go to the park.

  
  


Lance sees that the bench in front of him is occupied, the back of the person turned towards him. Seeing the well-worn red beanie and unruly dark hair peeking out to cover the person’s neck, he grins. He makes the effort to step lightly, yet his boots still made rather loud crunching sounds with every step. But Keith seemed too distracted looking at the fountain to notice. Perfect.

  
  


He braces both his hands on top of the backrest, one on each side of Keith’s shoulders. He doesn’t even flinch. Lance stifles a laugh, slowly lowering his head and bending his upper body so that his mouth is right behind Keith’s ear. He inhales silently through his mouth incredibly slowly. If he wasn’t sure if Keith was going to kill him then, he is now.

  
  


Mustering his deepest and breathy voice, he whispers.

  
  


“Hey.”

  
  


The reaction is immediate, this time. Keith jerks violently, standing and spinning around so fast that he would’ve hit Lance if he hadn’t leant back in time. Lance stands up straight, finally laughing at Keith’s face, that was usually controlled.

  
  


“ _Jesus,_ Lance.” 

  
  


“Yep, that’s me.” He said, still laughing a little breathlessly. He sighs, “That never gets old.”

  
  


He finally makes his way around the bench, plopping down next to Keith, who was now settled down again. Lance crosses his arms and puts his hands under his armpits, truly regretting his life choices right about now.

  
  


They sit in comfortable silence for a while, something that wasn’t uncommon for them. Lance was sure Keith would’ve reprimanded him for being late by now, but he stayed quiet. Lance stayed quiet as well, not wanting to break the almost-delicate atmosphere, filled with dancing snowflakes and the sun beginning to lower itself behind the trees.

  
  


He couldn’t stop shifting in his place though, trying to find a position that guaranteed constant warmth for his hands. He still isn’t successful, even after 5 more minutes.

  
  


“Just- here. Give me your hands.”

  
  


He looks at Keith beside him, whose eyes were filled with something that looked like determination and...some annoyance. Wait, what did Keith just say?

  
  


“What did you just say?” Lance asks, an eyebrow shooting up involuntarily.

  
  


Keith lost some of the boldness in his eyes, and Lance can see him swallow before speaking again. “You’re not wearing gloves, and it’s freezing. Give me your hands.”

  
  


Lance blinked. Was Keith going to let him borrow him his gloves? _Whatever. What could go wrong?_

  
  


“Um...Okay.” He says, still a little hesitant. He removes his hands from where they were under his thighs, turning to face Keith and lifting his hands in the space between them, open and palms facing upwards. He sees Keith remove his gloves, and Lance mentally sighs in relief. He isn’t sure what for.

  
  


Lance is about to thank him until Keith puts aside the gloves, turning so that they were mostly face to face now. Lance furrows his eyebrows in confusion, opening his mouth to speak, before Keith’s hands reach out as well. They were pale, and his fingers were shorter than his, and they were very warm, and Lance knew this since _Keith’s hands were now cupping his._

  
  


His brain just about malfunctions, alarms sounding in his head, but Lance doesn’t know why _._

  
  


He loses his entire capability to speak when Keith lifts their hands up and exhales into them before rubbing them together. Lance’s hands are significantly warmer, but so are his cheeks. He can’t stop looking at how their hands looked together, their skin tones contrasting in such a nice way, and how it felt so _natural,_ as if they were moulded to fit together. While Keith continued to warm their hands, Lance looks up at him. He was pouting a little, something Keith did when he was focused, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration. The sun had set by now, the warm light from the lamp near them casting a soft golden glow on them both. It highlighted the gentle slopes and curves of Keith’s face, his sharp jawline and eyes.

  
  


Lance had come to terms years ago that, yes, Keith was good-looking. Very. People in their school would stare at him more often than not, and he had always been there to play wingman, even with Keith’s protests every time.

  
  


But he had never really thought he’d end up staring at him in that sense too.

  
  


Because he had always been ‘just’ Keith to him. Keith, who he’d met almost 9 years ago, who he’d always been comfortable being around. Keith, whose company he really enjoyed, even if he didn’t show it often. Keith, who has always been a constant pillar in his life that he could depend upon. Keith, who was extremely talented, no matter how much he tried to deny it, who was the star athlete of their batch. Keith, who was smart and funny (if you understood his sense of humor). Keith, who had noticed his hands were cold and is now holding them to give them warmth. Keith, who is undeniably _sweet_ , because here he is, with Lance, in an empty park, watching the first snowfall with him like all the years before that. 

  
  


Shit.

  
  


He isn’t _just_ Keith anymore.

  
  


Lance stands up hastily, stuttering an excuse about being late for dinner, before swiftly walking back to his bike near the entrance of the park. His neck, cheeks, and ears were still burning, and he tries to suppress the heat. He isn't blushing. He is _not._

  
  


He closed his eyes and inhales, but he is instead greeted with the image of Keith under the light of the moon and the street lamp, smiling at him. He snaps his eyes back open.

  
  


_Oh no._

  
  


He goes home that night with his mind in a flurry.

  
  
  
  


»»————- ❅ ————-««

  
  
  
  


_2 years later._

  
  


It’s 11pm, it’s windy, it’s snowing, and Lance is shivering, but he waits.

  
  


It’s been a week since the accident.

  
  


Lance hasn’t seen Keith since.

  
  


Krolia had called yesterday to let Lance’s family know that Kenneth had finally woken up after being unconscious for six days. And that Shiro has mostly recovered, and they were scheduled for a prosthetic fitting in a week or so. She had said that Keith was worried sick the whole time at the hospital, only leaving their bedsides if absolutely necessary. But he’s fine now, and he’ll be going back to school on Monday.

  
  


But Lance knew Keith, and how much family meant to him. He doubted that Keith was at his best yet. He promised to be a constant in Keith’s life, just like he is in Lance’s, so when he saw the first telltales of snow a few hours ago, he rushed to the park, and started to wait.

  
  


And is still waiting.

  
  


But Keith is worth waiting for. Always has been, always will be.

  
  


More minutes pass, and Lance is about to get up and leave. But he stops all pretense of doing so when somebody sits down next to him on the bench. Under the lamplight, he catches a glimpse of dark hair and a red beanie. The tension in his body immediately drains away, and he exhales softly in relief. A few hours from now, he’d deny how worried he was.

  
  


He scoots closer, placing an arm around Keith’s shoulders. Like an automatic response, Keith rests his head on one of Lance’s.

  
  


As they talk and poke fun at each other, he notices Keith’s mood shift, from closed-off and gloomy into something warmer and light-hearted. Lance smiles even more.

  
  


He manages to make Keith laugh, an actual belly laugh, and Lance watches as his eyes crinkle at the corners and the dimple near the right corner of his mouth makes an appearance. Shit.

  
  


Lance is absolutely whipped for this boy.

  
  
  
  


»»————- ❅ ————-««

  
  
  
  


“Why don’t you just, I don’t know,” Rachel says in a fake contemplative tone, “ _Tell him?”_

  
  


Lance groans from where he’s face-down on his bed, thumping his feet repeatedly on it as if he was a toddler and not in twelfth grade. He feels sort of sorry for his twin sister, forcing her to listen to him rant about his...crush. Friend. Best Friend. Keith. Ugh. It's been four years since his Revelation, he should have this figured out already.

  
  


"You _know_ I can't!" He whines, finally flipping over so that he can stare at the ceiling and pout instead. He can't _._ He knows Keith isn't straight, but Lance is pretty, nay, _very_ sure that his best friend doesn't reciprocate the same feelings towards him, and Lance absolutely cannot risk ruining their friendship if he confesses. He's very content with their relationship right now, and he'd rather have this than losing Keith for good because he confessed that he wanted more. Saw him as more than a friend.

  
  


Somewhere in his mind, hidden under multiple layers of denial, he knows Keith is different from the others. When he'd first realized his feelings for Keith in the park four years ago, he immediately tried to smother them with distractions in hope of getting rid of them before they festered even more. And by distractions, he means weakly pursued crushes that changed every week and relationships that barely lasted a month. He really did like those people, but what he felt for them couldn't even compete with what he felt when he merely _thought_ of Keith. A whole plethora of emotions would start rising, beginning from the tightening of his chest and the faster pace of his heart, until he feels them spread to every nook of his body. He starts feeling warm and fluttery, paired with equally red cheeks and ears and a sickenly lovesick smile on his face. He definitely was not doing that right now.

  
  


_'Lovesick'_ He thinks.

  
  


After trying to distract himself that year, he then switched to resignation, accepting that he couldn't make the feelings go away but not being able to act on them as well. And, after several late-night Thinking sessions, he'd finally come to the conclusion that Keith was much more than just a crush. That maybe...he was in love. With him.

  
  


He groans once again, "Why does life hate me."

  
  


"Get up, you're gonna be late."

  
  


"Late?" His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It was a Sunday evening. He props his elbows behind him so that he can look at Rachel. "For what?"

  
  


Rachel doesn’t even look up from her phone. “It’s been snowing for the past ten minutes.”

  
  


“What?!” He immediately springs up and out of his bed, rushing to look out the window. He’s suddenly hit with some _déjà vu,_ before making his way to his closet and hastily putting on his coat, beanie, scarf, and gloves. But when the short burst of adrenaline fades, he sits back down on his bed and sighs.

  
  


“What is it?” His sister asks, voice a lot softer now. In his peripheral vision, Lance sees her put down her phone and stare at him with a hint of concern on her face.

  
  


“It’s just…” He inhales, “Should I tell him now?”

  
  


He waits for Rachel to answer.

  
  


“I don’t see why you shouldn’t, but I also don’t see why you have to pressure yourself to tell him.” He looks up at her. “I think, when the time’s right, you’ll just know.”

  
  


Lance smiles at her, mind a lot calmer now. He stands up, walking to the door. “You’re right. _Again._ Thanks.”

  
  


“Of course I am,” She responds in a confident tone before smirking. “Now, go get your man!”

  
  


He groans, making an obscene gesture behind him with his hand before pulling the door shut.

  
  


»»————- ❅ ————-««

  
  


Obviously, Keith is already seated on a bench when he gets there. There’s already a fair amount of snow, almost an inch. Lance thought that Keith wouldn’t choose benches facing away from the entrance ever since that time, but alas, here he is, He smirks, bending down slowly to scoop up a fistful of snow, moulding it into a ball. Lance walks slowly until he reaches safety behind a tree before lifting his arm and aiming.

He fires.

  
  


The snowball hits Keith square in the back of his head. Said boy has now stood up, turning around to look all around him for the culprit.

  
  


Lance ducks his head back from where he had been peeking around the tree, hoping that the trunk was wide enough to hide him. He snickers, remembering the confused and outraged expression on the dark-haired boy, before continuing to make another snowball. He stands slowly, then peeks cautiously around the tree once more. But what he didn’t expect was the previously occupied bench to now be empty. He makes a sound of confusion. _Where did-_

  
  


“Looking for me?”

  
  


Is the last thing Lance hears before a hand is removing his scarf and another is shoving a handful of snow down the back of his shirt.

  
  


He yelps loudly, causing a few other people to look at him. He twists and turns madly, trying to rid of the snow that was still between his shirt and back, since he had decided to tuck in his shirt. Damn it. He manages to pull it out, the snow finally escaping and landing back on the ground.

  
  


“Fuck you, Keith.” He says, turning around to face the scoundrel, who was desperately trying to stifle bouts of laughter. Keith had a hand covering his mouth, trying to hide the wide grin beneath it, a slight flush on his cheeks and nose from the cold. It was absolutely _adorable,_ but you didn’t hear that from him.

  
  


“You deserved it.” Keith finally replies when he’d calm down.

  
  


Lance shrugs a shoulder. Yeah, he did. But it wasn’t entirely bad, since Lance was able to see Keith in that state. Maybe he should let him win more. But Lance was not that type of person.

  
  


So he crouches down, pretending to tie his shoelaces. Then he swiftly grabs some snow. “And you deserve _this!_ ”

  
  


He throws the snow at Keith on the last word, hearing him yelp in surprise but not bothering to look at his reaction, before sprinting behind another tree and taking cover.

  
  


He hurriedly makes a small pile of snowballs, deciding that this tree will serve as his base. Lance is basically an expert at snowball fights after all, courtesy of his younger siblings, nieces, and nephews. He stands, stepping out from the safety of his base, looking for a sign of that red beanie or dark hair. But he couldn’t see too well, since it was already dark and the only things shedding light were the old street lamps and weak moonlight.

  
  


Something suddenly hits his back, and he makes a small ‘ _oof_ ’ sound before turning around to see Keith with a wicked smirk on his face.

  
  


Oh, it’s _on._

  
  


»»————- ❅ ————-««

  
  


When they finally wind down, it’s well into the night, filled with the sound of crickets and the occasional car passing by. It stopped snowing a few minutes ago, but there was a good amount of snow on the ground, at least an inch and a half. The park is mostly empty now, and they’re the only ones left near the fountain. His parents are probably going to kill him when he gets home seeing as he had school the next day, but he didn’t know he and Keith were going to end up having a full-fledged snowball fight that lasted for more than an hour. They ended the game when Keith tackled Lance to the ground, both too tired to keep going. And so, here they were, lying down in the snow next to each other, in soaking wet clothes.

  
  


Lance sighs, letting out a small chuckle. He tilted his head lazily to look at Keith, “That was fun.”

  
  


His friend just hums noncommittally, eyes focused on the dark sky above them filled with twinkling stars. Lance looks up as well.

  
  


A few minutes pass by like that, just two boys in the snow staring at the stars in the heavens.

  
  


Lance’s train of thought makes several stops. He speaks up when he thought of something.

  
  


“Do you ever wish you knew what other people think of you?”

  
  


It’s not uncommon for Lance to ask seemingly random questions out of the blue, so he waits for an answer.

  
  


Would Keith want to know what Lance thought of him? How would he react if he tells him the truth? That Keith is one of the best things that ever happened to him, that he’s such an important person in his life, that he can’t bear losing him. That he was _in_ love with him.

  
  


“Yeah, I guess so.” Keith finally says, voice low and slightly raspy from all the shouting earlier. “But...you could always just ask.”

  
  


“What do you mean?” Lance turns his head to face him, but almost flinches back in surprise when he finds Keith already staring at him. They were so close, noses almost touching. 

  
  


“I mean, if you know the person well enough, you could always just ask them.” Keith replies, almost lazily, and Lance tries _very_ hard not to look at how Keith’s mouth moves when he talks and how soft his lips looked, even if they were chapped from the cold. Keyword: tries.

  
  


Lance clears his throat softly, averting his eyes to look at anywhere but Keith’s mouth. His heartbeat has picked up speed, and he was almost sure Keith could hear it from where he was. He gathers a little courage and looks back at Keith, asking, “So...what do you think of me?”

  
  


Keith’s eyes furrow in thought, and Lance could practically see the gears working in his mind to properly answer. After almost twenty seconds, Keith sighs in something like defeat.

  
  


“You know I’m not exactly good at words.” Keith says as he sits up.

  
  


_True,_ Lance thinks. He rarely talked for more than a minute if it wasn’t about conspiracies or complaining about Shiro. So he expected Keith to leave that as his answer, not-

  
  


“Can I just...show you?”

  
  


Lance’s eyes widen in surprise, pulse concerningly fast and a whirlpool of thoughts start up in his mind. But it’s mostly just ‘ _WHAT?? Huh?? What does he mean?? Is he gonna?? What?? Huh?? Show him, how??_ ’

  
  


He regains his bearings after a few seconds, sitting up as well. His heart was basically thrashing in his chest and his flush definitely wasn’t going away soon.

  
  


“Sure.” Lance prides himself on his voice not shaking or stuttering when his insides were currently in a hot mess.

  
  


He sees Keith swallow, and Lance tries, he really does, not to stare at his throat. Keith suddenly shifts closer, and Lance swears his heart almost leaps out of his own throat when a gloved hand comes up to cup his cheek.

  
  


Lance Serrano-McClain is a strong-willed person, least to say.

  
  


He gets his way more often than not, with cunning eyes and devious smiles. When he knows what he wants, he knows how to get it. He rarely backs down when facing a challenge, and mostly gets through it unscathed. Victorious, even. Others just call him stubborn.

But when his best friend of almost 15 years is suddenly leaning into him with powdered snow on his eyelashes and an almost ethereal glow to him…

  
  


What else can he do but melt?

  
  


Lance closes his eyes as well, leaning forward to close the breath of space between them.

  
  


_This is it,_ He thinks.

  
  


They kiss, and it’s so soft, it’s basically just a brush of lips. Both their lips are chapped and dry, and it’s definitely far from perfect. But it’s more than what Lance could’ve ever imagined happening.

  
  


They barely pull away, foreheads still touching. He can’t help but smile, placing an arm around Keith’s waist. Unable to keep it in any longer, he starts giggling, until it turns into soft laughter. He moves to rest his forehead on one of Keith’s shoulders instead, unable to stop the trembles racking throughout his body.

  
  


“What? What’s so funny?” He hears Keith ask, but Lance can feel his body shaking a little as well.

  
  


“Nothing, it’s just…” Lance lifts his head again, looking at Keith with so much fondness and warmth that he can practically hear his siblings gagging. “I would’ve kissed you _such_ a long time ago, if…”

  
  


“If you knew I like-liked you too?”

  
  


“I can’t believe you just said that.” He grins. He shifts even closer, “But, yeah. I really like-like you, Keith.”

  
  


Keith smiles before leaning into him again, and Lance feels it on his lips.

When Lance gets home that night with messy hair, flushed cheeks, and a disgustingly sweet smile on his face, his parents do nothing but smirk at him knowingly. He grumbles all the way to his room.

  
  


What he doesn’t see is his dad put a wad of cash into his mom’s waiting hand.

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! i hope u enjoyed hehe, especially you june mwah
> 
> this is my first post on ao3 errr ik im not the best writer, so if y'all have any comments or constructive crticism, i'd love to hear it!
> 
> merry christmas to those who celebrate! or happy hanukkah! or...i hope you have a nice day/night
> 
> scream with me on [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/klancegf?s=09)


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